I hate it when I'm wrong. I'm blogging late because I'll be tossing and turning in my bed tonight, as I search the recesses of my mind for the silver lining which will soothe my suffering. What makes it doubly painful is that my association Chairman, Aled predicted exactly what would happen. To be fair he had the good grace not to gloat. But here, in the privacy of my office, as midnight approaches, I can admit to myself that I feel dejected.
The problem is that I have this consuming interest in 'How Wales is Governed'. I've briefed myself on the issue to a high standard, and like all obsessives, want to enthuse others to share my interest. So over recent days I have been delivering invitations to the people of Llanfyllin to join me for a discussion of this most fascinating of subjects in their Town Institute earlier tonight. I can only describe the turnout as meagre - not in quality, but in quantity. I'd hoped for at least twenty. I'd been looking forwards to chiding Aled, who had predicted that very few people would leave the comfort of their homes to hear me outline how Wales is currently governed, and what moving from part three to part four of the Government of Wales Act would mean for us all. I do so hate it when I'm wrong.
But tomorrow I must rise up like a phoenix from this pit of dejection, and set about the people of Montgomery - stuffing invitations through their letterboxes. Perhaps they will come rushing out from their houses in droves on Thursday evening to engage with me in a lively debate about the complexities inherent in Legislative Competence Orders. Oh how I would enjoy such a miracle. How I would enjoy telephoning Aled on some other unconnected matter, and nonchalantly making reference to a room full to the gunnels of people desperate to listen to me, and to a discussion, both scintillating and uplifting for all. Oh please let it be.